


(1) new message

by lesbianophelia



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, fluff fluff fluff, that's all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianophelia/pseuds/lesbianophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On my tumblr, Ghtlovesthg requested this AU, from a list of prompts: 'I can't cook and my mother keeps telling me I'll never become anything if I can't even make a proper meal and I somehow stumbled upon your food blog and it has now saved me so many times I just wanted to let you know about my gratitude in this oddly long, ridiculously personal email' au. </p><p>It turned into this. Happy Valentines day, my gift to you all is this fluffbomb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(1) new message

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghtlovesthg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghtlovesthg/gifts).



> Eternal gratitude and endless love to Gentlemama for betaing and handholding. She's the one who came up with Katniss' job. <3

**To: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

**From: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

 

**Subject: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

**Message:**

 

Hi, there! My name is Peeta. You don’t know me – I don’t comment on your articles nearly as much as I should (sorry!!) but I realized tonight that you’ve saved me, or, I guess, my dinners, more times than I can even countat this point. Let me explain.

 

I’m a baker. Like, a hardcore, grew up in my family’s bakery *baker* and well, I really suck at cooking. Maybe it’s because I’ve read too many recipes for bread, or whatever. But what the hell does “add to taste” even mean? And “a pinch”? How do I know how much to pinch? What if the person who wrote the recipe has smaller fingers than I do?

 

What I’m trying to get at here is that your blog is a lifesaver. My girlfriend was on a low carb diet and accused me of trying to fatten her up, cause I’m always baking. So after a few too many meals that included, like, boiled carrots in an attempt to make something that she was willing to eat, I did some googling and found your blog and made a trip to the farmer’s market you plugged. Just outside the city? Anyway, I made the grilled chicken recipe and won some major brownie points. Just. Not literal brownies.

 

Anyway, I found your recipes and kinda fell in love. I’m working my way through your collection and it’s like I can _feel_ myself getting to be a better cook. I know your bio says that you aren’t a _professional_ , but if your zucchini ended up half as good as mine? Well, maybe you ought to be. Because damn. I’m just incompetent enough in the kitchen to wonder how much better your things are than mine have turned out. Surely you have better tools.

 

And honestly, I’ve been staring longingly at your fried chicken recipe for weeks now. Can’t wait to try it.

 

Thank you again,

(Your biggest fan)

Peeta Mellark

 

\- - -

 

She can’t help herself but to smile at the email. She’s had her email addressed attached to the page for a while, and as it’s gotten more popular, she’s received a few messages, but none so . . . sweet. The last few have been from people wanting her to use their product for a tutorial or be _allies_ of some sort. But no one has ever called themselves her _biggest fan_ before.

 

“My, my, Miss Katniss,” Darius says. “And to think, I wasn’t even coming over here to see you.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Darius,” she says, even though the way he waggles his eyebrows at her threatens to make her laugh. He’s the unlucky one, restocking the books today. It’s easy to feel high and mighty at her seat behind the desk. Especially with how slow it is today.

 

“What’s got you smiling like that?” he asks, coming a little closer. She sighs, clicking out of her email and back to the directory even though he’s on the opposite side of the counter. She holds up the book that she’s been sneaking pages of during her free time.

 

“ _The Joy Of Cooking_ ,” he reads drily. “Yeah. Sounds like comedy gold. Let me tell you something, Miss Katniss. I think you’re the only one who checks out books from our cooking section.”

 

“Cheaper than buying them,” she says.

 

He laughs. “Oh, yeah. Especially with your employee discount.”

 

“Don’t you have books to stock, Darius?” she asks in a superior voice, tilting her chin to look down at him. He pretends to shudder.

 

“My goodness, do you look scary like that,” he says. “You just need a pair of reading glasses to look over and you’ll be any child’s worst nightmare.”

 

She rolls her eyes.

 

“Just don’t shush me,” he says. “I don’t know if my heart could take it.”

 

She shakes her head, making sure she’s alone before she pops back over onto her email account and types out a response.

 

**To: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

**From: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

 

**Message:**

Hello, Peeta!

 

Thank you for your kind words.

 

I’m always glad to hear that someone else hates all the fancy chef talk. I swear, the vagueness of it all drove me crazy when I first started reading recipes. It’s why I make a note of how much seasoning I use. No matter how many half teaspoons I have to dump in there to get the taste I want.  

 

Did you know they have [measurements for a dash and a pinch](http://www.amazon.com/Pinch-Dash-Smidgen-Measuring-Spoons/dp/B000E8OPVS)? Crazy, right?

 

And honestly, I have respect for your girlfriend, sticking to a low carb diet. I mean, I know I have a whole section for that sort of meal but I couldn’t do it. Not full time, at least.

 

Best wishes,

Katniss

 

P.S:

My fried chicken recipe is _awesome_. I was scared of it for a long time, but I finally invested in a cast iron skillet and couldn’t resist. Took a couple tries, but it’s one of my favorites. Definitely check it out. Just, maybe not with your girlfriend around :)

 

\- - -

 

Tonight is the night. He’s not being held back by his ex-girlfriend’s diet, and he’s spent just enough time wallowing to want to actually _eat_ something. He turns on some music to get him in the zone – a tip he might have seen on D12Kitchen, but that he knew worked because he distinctly remembers listening to music in the bakery when he was little.

 

And then, once he’s washed his hands – again –  he gets to work. It goes well enough, with a few minor burns from the spitting oil, but nothing running his hands under cool water can’t help. Just like _Katniss_ said in the article, he lets them stand and he thinks about how strange it is to have the rest of his letters. She signs off on her posts with just that first letter, and he’s been thinking of her as _– K_ for ages, now.

 

There’s too much food for just him. That’s to be expected. It’s strange enough to go from feeding fifty to feeding two people, and even stranger to cut that in half and just cook for himself. But he sort of likes it. Especially since he went the extra mile, as suggested on the blog, and made mashed potatoes.

 

Oh. He can’t remember the last time he had so much starch. He takes a picture of his prepared plate, because _Katniss_ likes to ask for pictures of finished meals in her comments. But so he doesn’t look like a complete creep, commenting on a post from over a year and a half ago, he attaches it to his next email to her. Maybe he looks like a creep, but better just in front of her than in front of all of her readers. Right?

 

**To: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

**From: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!! (+1 attachment)**

 

**Message:**

 

The roof of my mouth is totally burned. Awesome fried chicken. Better than I would have ever thought I could make at home. I attached a picture. Hopefully that’s not weird.

 

And no! I had never heard of that kind of measurement! Do you use them when you’re not cooking for the website?

 

I couldn’t do the low carb thing either. I almost cried at the smell tonight. Not even kidding. I missed it more than I thought possible. Now I’m gonna have to go through the rest of your full carb meals. Oh man. And bread. And dessert.

 

Thank you again,

Peeta

\---

 

She laughs, scrolling to the bottom of the conversation to see where her phone put the attached image. The meal on the plate looks pretty good – the breading looks a little burnt, but he may have used buttermilk and that’s why it’s so much darker. And the mashed potatoes look good. She thinks she can even see the lumps in the shitty iphone camera quality picture.

 

“What are you looking at?” Prim asks.

 

“Nothing,” Katniss says, pocketing her phone. “Just something from the website. You never told me how that test went!”

 

Prim knows about the website – it was her idea, Katniss running a food blog, and she helped to design the page. But that doesn’t mean Katniss always wants to talk about it on the rare occasions when she gets to see her baby sister. Prim starts to babble about her classes, and Katniss pulls out her phone while her sister drives, typing out a response.

 

**To: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

**From: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

 

**Message:**

 

Looks great!!

 

You make your own bread? Well. I mean. I know you said you were a baker, but still. That’s my weakness. I can’t bake.

 

Just don’t act too excited about full carb nights in front of your girlfriend! Maybe I need a disclaimer on the bottom of my website….

 

Best wishes,

Katniss

 

\---

 

Girlfriend? He frowns, scrolling back to his original message. Oh. Well. Maybe he can see how it could come across that way. He was a little post breakup drunk when he wrote it – and sent it. Because he had been thinking about it for ages, but never got around to thanking her until he had the liquid courage it took to type out an email. Of course the rambling didn’t make sense.

 

\--

 

**To: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

 

**From: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

 

**Message:**

 

No baking? I can’t imagine! I’ve been making bread since I was old enough to be trusted by the ovens.

 

Where did you learn to cook? Any reading materials you’d suggest?

 

Thank you again,

 

P.S.

No need to worry about my carb free girlfriend. She’s out of the picture. Every night is full carb night now.

 

\--

 

She shakes her head at the email but gets to work on a list of books for him to check out, stopping short of totally abusing her position of authority at the library to check and see if they’re in stock. He said he was local – or, at least, she doubts he made a road trip to check out the fresh market. But that seems like it’s creepy, maybe. And no one knows she works at the library – just like no one at the library knows about the food blog she runs online. Hopefully.

 

And, okay. Maybe she’s pleased when an adorable guy with curly blond hair comes in just before closing time and checks out nearly the whole cooking section. And maybe she’s even more thrilled when he hands over his library card and there, written in black sharpie and protected by a piece of tape, is **Peeta Mellark**.

 

“You didn’t respond to my email,” she says, aiming for casual as she puts his books into a bag.

 

He looks up at her, blue eyes wide in alarm, but then a grin blooms on his face. “Oh my god,” he says. “No way.”

 

She nods, and then, as if he actually meant it when he said no way, proves herself by tapping her little laminated nametag. “Don’t tell anyone, though.” She glances around, pleased when she catches Darius staring at her. He’s obviously shocked to see her like this. Leaned partway over the counter, talking to someone. He’ll give her hell about this later, but for now, it feels kind of _nice_ , being flirty. And interesting. Like she is on the internet. “The whole District Twelve kitchen thing is kind of my secret identity.”

 

He laughs, the sound warm and pleasant and enough to make her grin. “Your secret is safe with me,” he says. “I didn’t realize the library had such a big cooking section, though.”

 

“Not much action back there,” she says, and then catches herself blushing. _Peeta_ doesn’t seem to think anything of it. Good. He doesn’t know about the couples she’s had to shoo away from the books for making out back there. “Well, I’ll see you in two weeks.”

 

He smiles. “Okay. See you in two weeks.”

 

**To: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

**From: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

**Message:**

 

Okay. Yeah. Officially spoiled by your recipes. I just totally ruined my pasta sauce. Save me.

 

\--

 

He’s not sure what kind of a response he expects to get about that. It’s been about a month and a half since he met _Katniss_ and began to harbor an enormous crush on the pretty dark haired girl that bagged his books for him. He’s made more than a few trips to the library, just to see her. She had laughed when he came in to ask for an extension on his books in person and explained that he could have called, but that wouldn’t have worked, because then he couldn’t have made sure she would have been the one to answer the phone.

 

And it feels wrong to use her email to ask about library related stuff, anyway.

 

**To: Mellark.P@Gmail.com**

**From: KE@D12Kitchen.com**

 

**Subject: Re: Thanks For Saving Me!!!**

 

**Message:**

If you’re being serious, give me your address. We can see about working something out. I work tonight, but if you can hold off on eating pasta until tomorrow, I know a great recipe :)

 

Best wishes,

Katniss

 

\--

 

**Peeta Mellark. (Sent 8:45 PM)**

_Had a great time tonight. Thanks for having me!_

 

**Katniss Everdeen. (Sent 8:47 PM)**

_I did too. You can cook next time. Something low carb, maybe? ;)_

 

**Peeta Mellark. (Sent 8:48 PM)**

_Anything you want :) I found this great website with all kinds of recipes a while back…_

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on Tumblr if you want the jump on this kind of fic. I reblog prompt lists all the time, and I'm always open if anyone wants to send them to me. :)


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